Painted Face
by Linhlea
Summary: He stood by the door casually, a smirk played on his lips with a cigarette dangling on his fingers. Her routine—her life—was broken as she stared up at Hajime Saitou. Soujiro X Misao Rewrite of Two Silent Feet. Rating subject to change.


Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

Hi guys! The rewrite for Two Silent Feet is finally here! (whew!) With a new name! The old title had more to do with what I was planning on doing in the future for the old version, but I haven't decided if I was still going to go that route, so I renamed it!

I actually wanted to pre-write more chapters before posting it (I have a couple written now), but I didn't want to make you guys wait anymore! It's actually the perfect time to post it since I'm on spring break and can write more now, and I feel that having you guys waiting for new chapters will give me motivation to write.

Some chapters will just be revision, other will be completely rewritten. I have a lot of new scenes planned to be added in to the already existing scenes I have now, and while rereading the story, I do agree with a lot of people that I wrote Misao a lot weaker than she really is (mainly because I wrote her how Soujiro views her and now how she actually is) and I have a lot of new ideas and ways to show her as a strong person, but still have Soujiro's view on how she's weak.

Enough of my ranting, hope old and new readers shall enjoy!

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><p><em>Wake up.<em>

The wind bit against her skin, and even though it was no longer raining, the clouds puffed its chest up in pride and waited for the hand that would just reach up and squeeze all of the water out. Her bare feet felt cold against the wet ground, and she jumped over puddles like they were oceans separating her from the man she had just left behind.

Her shoes dangled from her fingertips, flinging mud and water against her legs with every swing of her arm. She greeted everyone she passed by name, smiling as she would stop at a stall here and there. Some greeted her back with a smile, but others clucked their tongue at her in disapproval as they scolded her for her inappropriate dress. Some shooed her away to avoid the flinging mud.

Some men leered at her long exposed legs even though it was splashed with dirt and grime. It only proved to catch their attention. None of them dared to speak a work towards her.

_Give Aoshi his tea._

She relished in the cool feeling of the mud clinging onto her skin every time she took a step. She wiggled her toes against the muck and when she had to stop for carriages to pass by, she would draw little patterns into the ground that would only wash away moments later.

Misao walked deliberately slow, hoping that maybe if she stalled for long enough, that today would be the day that he would come after her. Maybe he would realize that was in love with her and see that she had always been by his side. That she always would be.

_Wish that Aoshi would love her._

She could imagine him sitting in the temple, meditating like he always had. She would serve him tea, and he would look up at her, but this time he would be struck by her beauty. He'd stop and gaze in wonder and see her as the woman that she had long ago become. And he'd wonder how long it had been like that and why he had never notice it before.

And he would keep it to himself, because that was just how he was. Even when she was a child, he was always private about his thoughts and feelings. And she would leave, none the wiser, looking forward the next day.

And he would continue to meditate, but this time his thoughts only surrounded her. Even as he tried to clear his mind, she would pop up in his brain over and over again. And as he tried to sort out these feelings, his body would just move up on his own because it knew that he had to go after her.

And he'd run through the rain for her. His gorgeous hair would be soaked with rain, but eyes determined to find her. Not even knowing why he had to see her, but he did. And once he reached her he would grab her arm, and she'd look back at him in shock. They would gaze into each other's eyes with love and she would—

_Delude herself with fantasies. _

Misao stopped, the area now devoid of anyone but her, and dropped her shoes. She looked back behind her, longing to see his form chasing after her. Her shoes splattered against the ground, sinking deep into the mud. Misao closed her eyes, remembering, reliving absolutely nothing.

That is just what her life had become—absolutely nothing.

Aoshi never heard her voice, not in the way that she wanted him to. He would nod his head maybe and acknowledge her, but he never heard what she had to say. His treatment was so silent and cold, and even after two years, she never even saw a crack of a smile. And she's been trying.

Misao didn't even notice that the rain had started up again. That mother earth had chosen that exact moment to reach up her warm, nurturing hand to squeeze the water out of the sky, like a sponge that had gotten much too full and needed help being wrung out. She just stood there with her eyes closed and a small smile place on her lips. There was too huge of a difference between reality and fantasy. If only the line would blue just once, just for her.

She opened her eyes and felt the rain. It trailed down her cheeks, resting at her shoulders before it traveled down her bare legs. Her hair was matted against her face, but she took a huge sigh and shook it off. Water flung off and joined the rest of its brothers and sisters in a pool underneath her feet.

She ran, trailing after the clouds that paved a path in front of her. It stretched out as far as she could see, and maybe if she ran fast enough, she would see a small peak of blue shinning through. Her feel slapped against the slippery road, but her destination was nowhere in sight or mind.

She never paid attention to the forgotten shoes left lifelessly in the mud.

Instead she ran to wherever her feet would take her. Even though her body was numb from the cold, even if her legs protested against the abuse. She ran until she could lose her thoughts behind her. Rain until it would be enough. She ran as if it would make Aoshi love her the way that she wanted him to.

And she was numb, so numb that she could feel the cold sitting against her skin. It was no longer seeped through her, and even if it tried to penetrate through her skin, it couldn't pass the shell that had now formed around her. Instead, it rested against her skin until it could find a hole to tear through.

Her body stopped, lurching forward and almost falling in front of the Aoiya. Her once blank face now held a smile, and even as her legs protested, she bounced around in excitement. She leaped into the restaurant, not even caring how wet or muddy she was.

_Act as if she was okay._

Misao!" Omasu frowned at her with disapproval when she raked her eyes up and down her body. The said girl merely waved; her feet padding across the hardwood floors with mud tracts following her every step. "Misao!"

"Hold on, I'll clean it up!" Misao grabbed a towel and threw it across her shoulders, patting her hair with it even if it wouldn't really make a difference. "It's not my fault it's raining outside!"

She skidded into her room, rummaging through her drawers as she shed her layers one by one. She shook her body off, not even caring about the mess in her own room as she toweled herself off and put on a new set of clothing.

It didn't take long to clean up the mud in the hallway, and she quickly made her way into the restaurant. Her smile was bright and contagious as she bounced from one table to the next. Her chatter was bubbly and happy, just the way the costumers loved their waitress.

_Work in the Aoiya._

"Hey, Misao! How about coming over here now?" She smiled at the group of guys who called out to her and quickly made her way to them. The noise of the Aoiya was welcoming to her ears, and she made sure that she knew the faces of everyone who walked through those doors.

"Hey, how're you guys doing? What would you like?"

"Well, we would ask for you, but you already have a man," one said with a lopsided grin. Misao laughed and waved them off, but inside she was wishing that it was true.

"Stop joking like that guys!" She grinned at them. "Must you say that every time? I think your wives are going to be jealous. It'll be your fault, you know, if they come after me now."

"Nah, they know that it's all in good fun. In fact, if you ever find yourself looking, my son would be lucky to have a beauty like you." The men all piped up in agreement, each trying to promote their son above the others.

"You guys are sweet, but you know that I don't want anyone other than my Master Aoshi! Now do you want the usual or not?"

They all laughed and nodded, and one even gave her a wink just as Misao walked away to give the order.

"My pretty Misao!" Okina shouted while he bounced towards her with as much energy as she had. She grinned back at him, but she didn't do much else. Her hands were filled with food and she began to set them down for each costumer. "Whatcha need Jiya?"

"You are just growing up so fast," he answered with sparkles in his eyes. "Pretty soon you will bring home a nice husband for me." He wiped away a tear from his eyes.

She rolled her eyes as her own sparkle reached hers. "I've already have one here, Jiya! He just needs to realize it." But he was no longer listening, instead distracted by the women sitting in the nest table.

They laughed at each other, trying to inconspicuously point and whisper at each other as Okina tried to charm them. Some flirted back playfully, but others just brushed them off and tried to wave at Misao to get rid of him.

She puffed up her cheeks in annoyance and stuck out her tongue at him. "Jiya!" She stomped over to him and yanked on his ear, pulling him away from the girls.

And life continued for Misao, never changing from its current state. In a blink of an eye, she would be back here tomorrow, doing the exact same thing. It was always a routine, the same thing every single day. It gave Misao a sort of comfort, knowing that she was surrounded by her family, but it trapped her. Held her tight against them and forced her to stay the little girl that they had always thought she was. The little girl that she couldn't escape being.

She waved goodbye to the last lingering costumers, never once dropping the smile that she had painted on her face. But as she stood by the doors, her eyes lingered into the distance, eyes straining to see the tall silhouette of a man that she was always waiting for.

But he didn't walk through the haze of the darkness, didn't greet her with the small nod of acknowledgement that she knew was his way of showing affection. The only thing she could do was turn her back to and continue on living her life with only the few glances that she could spare to turn back.

_Work as the Okashira._

But she shed away that child, away from the prying eyes of the outside world, when she sat down to the growing pile of papers on her desk. She wiped away the sweat from her forehead, not bothering, yet, to change out of her clothes.

She picked up each page, carefully reading through each word printed on the page. In times of peace, there weren't much use for ninjas. It was only little task that had to be dealt with, but Misao she poured through them, running through everything that needed to be done.

There was trouble brewing in Yokohama, local gang members were terrorizing the village and some even trying to kidnap the women. Misao sent a note to the nearest base for the Oniwabanshuu members to gather information and report back. She would personally travel there to deal with it if need be.

A noble family was paying them to guard their daughter. Multiple kidnapping attempts were made for her. Misao had heard of her. She was known as the beauty of the decade, and many men were clambering after her hand in marriage. But rumor had it, she had fallen in love with a wondering man and was waiting for his fateful return. Misao sent back a note, asking how much man power they needed, already gathering up nearby members to dispatch once they were contacted.

The base in Tokyo sent note of their dwindling supplies. With their last mission, they were lacking in manpower and money. She quickly sent them any money that the Aoiya could spare.

She continued to work into the night, not even noticing as her candle grew dimmer and dimmer as the wax continued to melt. She only strained her eyes and kept on trying to read the blurry words until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

_Get ready for bed._

Misao didn't pay any attention to anything around this, and thus, she didn't notice when she collided with a warm and very hard body.

"So, you're still the Okashira, huh?" Misao jerked her body away immediately and glared at the man in front of her. "Do you really think you're competent enough to do that, Weasal"

"What are you doing here?" She watched him wearily, hand poised and ready behind her back to grasp the kunis that were always hidden underneath her clothes in case he said anything wrong.

He stood by the door casually, a smirk played on his lips with a cigarette dangling on his fingers. Her routine—her life—was broken as she stared up at Hajime Saitou.


End file.
